Kingdom of Pain
by rightxhere
Summary: Less than a year on the force, twenty year old Michael Boscorelli struggles to deal with everything after being faced with a horrific case. [Ch 2 uploaded!]
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Kingdom of Pain - Ch 1  
**Author:** Demelza  
**Categories: **Angst, A/U  
**Disclaimer:** Third Watch and its characters belong to NBC, WB, John Wells, Ed Bernero and their other owners. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Kelly Marie Cunningham is Copyright © 2005-2006 Demelza Watt, Amy and Fyre.  
**Characters:** Mikey, Kelly, Bosco, Rose, Sully & Faith.  
**Warnings:** High level violence and swearing, sexual references, drug use and lots of angst.  
**Summary:** Less than a year on the force, twenty-year-old Michael Boscorelli struggles to deal with everything after being faced with a horrific case.  
**Notes:** This story is VERY dark, and was not at all written for the tender-hearted reader. While yes, it is a Mikey fan fiction, it also features other characters.

**CHAPTER ONE**

The air was stale, and metallic, like blood. Overhead, one of three working halogen lights flickered on and off. His hands buried deep in his navy blue winter coat pockets, he stood, staring at the recently cleaned concrete floor beneath him.

He had been found here. _Dwight._

At four, Dwight Adam Jameson had rich brown hair, baby blue eyes, and in the picture the boy's parents had given him, he had been smiling so wide.

The detectives weren't just looking at his murder though. _At his slaughter._ There were two other children.

He envisioned each of their pictures next.

Anya Helena Nunn's hair was the whitest blond he had ever seen, and her blue eyes matched her sweet smile.

Van Reece Crichton had brown hair, brown eyes, and a scar on his forehead from a fall when he was two.

Their three faces vividly in his mind, he swallowed hard as he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt his hands balling into fists in his pockets.

Some monster had done this. Some monster had _butchered_ those children.

The killer, whoever he was, didn't care that he was killing innocent children. Each one of them from loving homes.

There was no connection between the children. No connection between their parents, or relatives.

The truth was, he, _Michael Lee Boscorelli, _didn't know how to stop the killer. He didn't know where to find him. _He didn't know_. He was useless. He was in a job he knew couldn't do, and now he was failing them all. He was failing all those children.

Some cop he was. He couldn't do anything right. Hell, he shouldn't have even become a cop. _Shouldn't have._

He inhaled pensively, remembering the day of his graduation.

"_Relax," his older brother Maurice had said, where they stood outside the Academy, waiting to head inside. All of them, Maurice, their Ma, his girlfriend Kelly, and Maurice's partner, Faith Mitchell, had stood around him._

_Maurice grinned proudly, "You passed, Mike, you're gonna be fine. So relax."_

"_Not if I throw up on stage," Michael replied, tugging at the collar at his throat. His pleading eyes went to Kelly then, and he sighed, "It's choking me."_

"_Here," Kelly smiled, stepping away from Rose's side and over to him. Her loose hair gently blowing in the wind, he could smell the soft strawberry fragrance of her shampoo, and he smiled as she reached up, loosened his tie a little, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and fixed his tie again. "How's that?"_

"_Good," he replied, clearing his throat. "Thanks, Kel."_

"_Sure thing," she smiled, with adoration. She played with the pin on his tie, "You look great."_

"_If you wanna call wearing dress uniform great," he nervously argued, placing his hand over hers._

"_Trust me," Maurice said then, and they all looked in his direction. "It looks worse on the female figure. Way worse," he said._

"_Hey!" Faith exclaimed, jabbing him in the ribs. "While it's true, that's not nice."_

"_Hey I never said you didn't look good in it. Course, I bet you look better outta it."_

_Rose gasped, exclaiming, "Maurice Louis Boscorelli!"_

"_What?" he asked with a laugh._

_Faith jabbed him in the ribs again, "Honestly, Bosco..."_

"_It's not as though you weren't thinkin' the same of me when we graduated."_

_She pinched his arm, and Michael rolled his eyes at his brother and his partner, turning his attention to Kelly. She stood there in front of him, her eyes focused on the ground. He smiled. "Hey, shy girl..." he said, removing his hand from hers. He hooked his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "You okay?"_

_She nodded. "Yeah," she murmured, before stepping forward, where she reached up on the tips of her toes and gently kissed him. She murmured, "I'm so proud of you," against his lips, and tenderly kissed him once more._

"_Yeah. I know you are." He kissed her back, slipping both his arms around her and holding her to him. He had gazed into those deep brown eyes of hers then, and, not even thinking, he had leaned in and kissed her deeply._

He could still feel the weight of her lips as she kissed him back, but his graduation day faded from his mind, and all he was left with were waves of uncertainty. He was in too deep. A beat cop some five and a half months, and he was already involved in something he couldn't get his mind around.

Slowly, his guilt only worsening, Michael turned and made his way towards the open door he had come in through. It had been close to sunset when he had arrived, and now it was black out. There was no moon; there was only a barren waste of darkness.

He ducked under the crime scene tape that crossed the doorway, pulled the door closed behind him, and walked to his dark red utility truck, parked just over a dozen steps away. Stopping at the driver's side of the truck, he turned, looking out toward the ocean at the far end of the pier.

It was eerie. In the stillness of the night, all he could hear was the roar of the ocean, offset only by the sparse handful of trucks and cars that passed on the main road two or three hundred yards behind him. His old man had worked at the docks out in Queens while he was growing up, and he could never remember hearing them being as quiet as the Manhattan docks were tonight.

Removing the keys from his right jeans pocket, he picked out the key to the truck and put it in the door. Unlocking it, he heard the door lock come up and it was enough to make him stand there, remembering.

_He had been on the force two months, not counting the six months of training from the Academy. He had stood outside the green apartment door, staring at it, wondering inside how it was possible that eight months ago he was failing all of his papers in college. And now, here he was, making more money than he'd seen in his life, working a job he still wasn't sure he was any good at, and he was living with his beautiful girlfriend in their own apartment._

_He unlocked the door, opened it and stepped inside. He was just removing the key from the door, when he heard faint sobs coming down the corridor. Quickly, he closed the door and made his way past their bedroom, and straight to the bathroom. As he wound the corner, he saw Kelly sitting there on the edge of the tub. Her dark brown, almost black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she wore a pair of his dark red board shorts and one of his baggy, grey NYPD t-shirts._

_Pushing himself forward, he stepped into the blue-tiled bathroom and slowly made his way over to where she sat. He sunk in beside her, and reached his hand over, taking hold of hers._

_They sat quiet for the longest few moments, when Kelly sighed softly, followed by a weak sob._

"_H-hey," he said, swallowing. He turned, taking her in his arms._

"_I'm sorry," she cried against his chest. "I'm sorry, Michael."_

"_No, baby," he had told her, kissing her head softly, "Baby, no. It's not your fault. It's not."_

Michael stood there now, staring at his disheveled reflection in the window of his truck. They had been pregnant. _Eleven weeks. _Then, for no reason, the baby had miscarried, and Kelly hadn't been the same since.

Swallowing, he opened the door and climbed into the truck. He slowly pulled the door shut after him, staring down the pier, watching the boats as they rocked back and forth. All he ever wanted was to give Kelly the life and love she deserved. To give her security. Being a cop meant he didn't fail her. Or, _it was meant to_. Now, he wasn't so sure.

He blinked as a heavy exhale escaped his lips.

Staring listlessly down the pier, he slowly shook his head and set the key in the ignition. "What the fuck am I supposed to be doing? Huh, dad?"

_Michael, sixteen years old, had walked home from school that day the happiest he had been in as long as he could remember. He had kissed Kelly for the first time today, and it felt great._

_She was his girl, his, and his alone._

_He raced in through the creaky gate and up the footpath until he reached the front door to the house. He removed his key from his pocket and hurriedly unlocked the door, wanting to tell his Ma all about his day, just like he did every day._

_Stepping into the house, he removed the pack from his back and tossed it to the floor as he kicked the door shut behind him. "Ma!" he shouted, "Ma, I've got something to tell you! Ma!" He checked her seat in the living room, but she wasn't there, so he raced into the kitchen and saw his old man at the kitchen sink, washing his hands. "Dad?" he asked, his face scrunching up in a confused frown._

_He watched his dad turn off the faucet and turn to him. "Hey, kiddo," he smiled._

_Michael stared at him, quiet for a moment. "Where's Ma?" he asked, "She alright?"_

"_Resting...and yes. Why wouldn't she be?" he challenged back._

"_Nothin', I uh, I just wondered. That was all."_

"_I see."_

"_Yeah," he replied, and he nervously stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "So, you're back?"_

_His dad nodded, smiling a wide smile. "At least until the boss puts me back on the road."_

"_Oh right," Michael nodded too._

"_You don't look so happy to see me, son."_

"_Naw, come on, dad, of course I am. It's just, it's been a few months. That's all."_

_He pointed towards one of the chairs at the table, "Sit with your old man."_

_He sat, just as his dad did, and Michael rested his hands on his lap. "So, where you been, dad?"_

"_Out west," he replied. "Makin' deliveries between Reno and California."_

"_Wow."_

"_Yeah, wow," he grinned. "Your Ma get them checks I sent?"_

"_Every Tuesday," he answered._

"_Good. Good, I'm glad."_

"_Yeah."_

_They were both silent for a little while longer, when his dad lightly slapped the table. "So, what was this exciting news you had to tell your Ma, huh?"_

"_Oh. Uh. Nothin'...nothin' really..."_

"_What, it a girl? Did you finally get laid?"_

"_Dad, come on," Michael protested, his cheeks burning._

_His dad laughed. "Michael, you are your mother's son."_

_He just smiled, nervously._

"_So, what's her name?"_

_He stared at his dad for a moment, then looked away, shaking his head. "Kel. Kelly. She's, real sweet," he said, a smile curling his lips. "I think you'd like her."_

"_I'm sure," he replied, nodding._

"_Yeah," Michael had smiled._

_They had stared at each other for the longest minute. Michael always had no idea what to say to his old man. He didn't see him often enough that they would strike up your every day kinds of conversation. In fact, aside from the usual greetings when he was home, they had never really spoken. Maurice had always said he liked it that way, but Michael kind of missed it. He had known their old man had a temper when he had had booze in his system, but he also knew he had always done his best to financially support his family. Michael had always just wished it hadn't been so many goddamn miles away._

Anthony never got a call asking him to make any more trucking trips though. Less than two weeks later, a day shy of Michael's seventeenth birthday, he found his old man in the upstairs bathroom, ice cold, blue, and very much dead. He had been laced up to his eyeballs with heroin, and even now, all Michael could do – all he wanted to do – was blame him for everything.

If his dad hadn't left, if he hadn't died, would it have been so hard? Would, maybe, Michael have turned out better? Stronger? More like his dad and Maurice?

"Why don't you tell me, dad?" he said, his voice weakening. "Tell me how to...how to make everything alright."

He needed to know. _He needed to._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Kingdom of Pain - Ch 2  
**Author:** Demelza  
**Categories: **Angst, A/U  
**Disclaimer:** Third Watch and its characters belong to NBC, WB, John Wells, Ed Bernero and their other owners. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Kelly Marie Cunningham is Copyright © 2005-2006 Demelza Watt, Amy and Fyre.  
**Characters:** Mikey, Kelly, Bosco, Rose, Sully & Faith.  
**Warnings:** High level violence and swearing, sexual references, drug use and lots of angst.  
**Summary:** Less than a year on the force, twenty-year-old Michael Boscorelli struggles to deal with everything after being faced with a horrific case.  
**Notes:** This story is VERY dark, and was not at all written for the tender-hearted reader. While yes, it is a Mikey fan fiction, it also features other characters.

**CHAPTER TWO**

The apartment was dark when Michael finally parked the truck outside his and Kelly's building. He made his way upstairs and into the apartment. Inside, the drapes in the living room were closed, and as he removed his boots and jacket he regretted he hadn't been home for Kelly when she finished work tonight. She had been through so much in the last three and a half months. After the miscarriage, she had changed in little ways. She would sit for nearly an hour, picking at her dinner. They used to watch movies at night, and in the last three weeks all she did was sleep. She slept, and he sat, watching over her, wondering how he could fix everything for her.

Swallowing, he quietly made his way down the corridor, and stopped soon after stepping into their room. She lay facing the door, clutching something in her hand and his forehead creased, when he walked over, sat on the edge of the bed in front of her. She sighed softly, and he felt his already heavy chest grow heavier. Watching for a moment, he heard her breathing. It was light, and while her face was expressionless, he couldn't stop hearing her cry. He wanted, _so much_, to reach out and take the pain from her. He wanted to undo the damage he had done. The damage working the job he did had done. He had made her worry needlessly...and she had lost the baby.

_She deserved better._

Closing his eyes for just a moment, he imagined a life where she never once felt any pain. Where their lives were full of all the love and happiness it was meant to be. Theirs, _and their baby's._

A soft, whimpered cry from Kelly brought him back to reality, and he blinked, staring down at her.

Hating himself for leaving her when he hadn't been there for her tonight, he pushed himself to his feet and headed out of the room, down the corridor to his left and into the bathroom from there. Immediately squinting from the burning in his eyes, he flicked the light switch as he entered the tiny ice-cold room. It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust, and when they did he walked straight for the toilet and lifted the lid. He was seconds from unzipping his fly, when something – he wasn't sure what – made him look to his right.

There, he saw the medicine cabinet and he frowned.

_It was the middle of a school day, and seventeen year old Michael had stood, leaning against the doorway of the downstairs bathroom, watching as Kelly had fumbled to get the lid off the aspirin._

_He laughed, pushing himself away from the doorway, and stepped over to her. He snatched the brown bottle from her hand, popped the lid off and tipped two aspirin out onto her open hand. "How do you have trouble opening the lid, Kel?" he asked, bemused._

_Kelly glared back at him as she put the tiny tablets in her mouth, then swallowed them down with a small glass of water. Done, she took the bottle from him, "I don't have _trouble_," she pointedly replied, trying to get the lid back onto the bottle. Only the damned thing wouldn't go on, and Michael couldn't help but laugh at the face she was pulling. "Oh I give up!" she exclaimed, shoving it against his chest. "I can't get them open, and if I can, I can never get the lid back on!"_

_Michael grinned, effortlessly popping the lid onto the bottle. "How was that hard?"_

"_Oh shut up," she said, pulling a face at him._

"_Come here and make me," he playfully tormented her. His free hand moving to her hip, he pulled her to him._

"_You're so..."_

_She didn't finish._

"_I'm so, what?" he challenged, slipping his other arm around her and pulling her to his chest._

"_Nothing," she said, standing on her tippy toes. Giving him a momentary smile, she kissed him full on._

_Michael was grinning halfway through the kiss, and when it ended, he moaned lightly. His eyes peeled open after a few seconds, a smile curving his lips. "So uh...you know my Ma ain't home, and Mo's trainin', so..."_

"_It's the middle of a school day," she replied, giving him one of her serious looks. Stepping back, she took the aspirin bottle from him and set it on the edge of the basin, before turning back to him._

_He couldn't help but grin at that serious look on her face. "Yeah...and?"_

"_And...what if we got caught?"_

"_Like I said, Ma and Mo ain't home..."_

_She tilted her head to the side, looking back at him. "What about your Gran? She comes and cooks dinner some days..."_

_He inched closed to her, mumbling. "At...some..." he kissed her lightly, twice, and begun drawing her out of the bathroom with him. "Retreat..." he captured her lips, kissing her longer this time._

_Their lips parted and a light groan escaped her lips on a soft sigh. "You sure?" she asked, her breathing deepening, when she moved for him, kissing him back, hungrily._

"_Yeah," he murmured against her lips._

Michael suddenly broke himself from the memory, his breathing a little heavy. He swallowed hard, feeling the sudden warmth in his chest fade as he stared at the cabinet.

Pushing the memory out of his mind, he stepped over, briefly examining the half inch gap between the cabinet door and the cabinet. When, he felt a sudden urgency rush through him. He pulled the door open and inside he saw an orange prescription bottle laying on its side. He reached for it in fear. The lid was barely on, and the label read 'Darvocet'. Beneath it was Kelly's name, and the date, _dated three weeks ago._

His heart sunk and he dropped the bottle into the basin, the pills spilling out of the plastic container. "Oh Kel..." he breathed. He pushed the cabinet door shut, his eyes moving frantically at the label, at the pills..._what was she doing?_

Tears desperately trying to inch their way to the surface, he ran out of the bathroom, along the corridor, and straight into their bedroom. Rushing to Kelly's side, he dropped to the edge of the bed, shaking her awake. "Kelly," he begged, his lungs gasping for more air than he needed, and he shook her a little harder. "Baby, wake up...please. Kelly...!"

Her tired, drowsy eyes opened, looking back at him. "Mi-Michael...?"

"How many, Kel?" he asked, trying not to be frantic, but he was afraid. He was terrified that she had done something stupid. "Kelly, how many Darvocet did you take?"

Her tired eyes shifted from him and he shook her to make her look at him.

"Kel, please!" he begged, his chest rising and falling fast.

"O-one," she whimpered.

"Baby...why?" he breathed, leaning over and brushing the hair from her face. "Why? Why are you taking it?"

Tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head, tiredly. "I'm...sorry..." she whispered.

He cried, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "No...no, I am. I'm...God, I was...I was meant to be here for you..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, crying a little harder, yet still so weakly.

"No," Michael said, moving to pull her into his arms. He cradled her. "Baby, it's not your fault." He kissed the side of her head, slowly rocking her, when he felt her hands move to the front of his shirt, and he wanted to scream. _He_ had done this. Him, and him alone.

Whispering, "I'm sorry, baby," he rocked her closer.

It wasn't long after then that Kelly had drifted off to sleep again and Michael felt the weight of his guilt burrow deeper into his shoulders. Once he was sure she was asleep he moved quietly to the bathroom to flush the Darvocet, Aspirin, and every other possible medication she might have been able to use to harm herself down the toilet. He had finished putting the empty bottles in the dustbin, when he went out into the living room and stopped, finding himself staring hard at the sofa.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a low exhale. "What do I do, Dad?" He lowered his gaze to the carpeted floor, lightly shaking his head, whispering, "What do I do?"

_It was their first night in the apartment, and it had taken up until just under an hour ago to convince Michael's Ma to leave. Maurice and his partner, Faith – there for the small housewarming dinner – had already left, but his Ma had convinced herself they needed help unpacking the rest of what little belongings they owned._

_It was closer to ten when they had finally gotten her to head home. She left by cab, and Michael and Kelly had stood at the edge of the footpath, waving until the cab vanished from view._

_Returning upstairs, they made their way back to the sofa and had been lounging there since. Michael held Kelly in his arms, while she sat, leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder._

_After he joined the Academy, they talked a lot about getting their own place, but then he signed up and they were still at his Ma's. And now...now they finally had a place to call their own. They had spent eight months saving up, and once they were sure it was what they really wanted, they found a place and moved in together._

_It was perfect. And it was quiet. Michael's grandmother had moved in with his Ma, and while he loved both women to death, they sure as hell liked to talk a lot._

_Not Kelly though. Oh, they talked, but it was about more important things, like them, not the latest gossip from Carolina from the Salon._

_Letting out a soft exhale, he turned his head, glancing down at Kelly. "It's quiet," he said with a smile._

"_Yeah," she softly replied, lifting her gaze to his. "I still can't believe we're...alone," she said._

"_I know, me either," he smiled, looking at her lips for a moment, then her eyes again. "Just you...and me..."_

"_And a hard mattress on the floor," she laughed._

_Michael nodded. "Guess pillow fighting is out of the question then."_

"_Why?" Kelly answered, giving him a challenging look, "Scared I'll kick your butt?"_

_They moved to sit face to face. "Kel, I'm in no way – whatsoever – _scared_ of you," he said, his right eyebrow rising in seriousness._

_She stared at him for a moment, no smile, just an intense, concentrated gaze, when suddenly, her lips cracked with a smile and she let out a small laugh. "Honey, you know that's not true." She placed her hands on his shoulders, "But I love you anyway."_

"_Yeah?" he asked, wetting his lips._

"_Yeah," she answered, laughing a little more._

_Smiling, he went to lean in and kiss her, but she moved her right hand to his chest, stopping him. He narrowed his eyes at her as she gave him a smirk. "Oh, I don't trust that look..."_

"_You're damn right," she said, standing up from the sofa._

"_Where are you going?" he asked, staring up at her with a frown._

_A small smile pursed her lips. "Bedroom," she replied, her voice soft._

_His eyebrows rose slowly. "Oh...you uh, you are?"_

_Her smile staying, she quietly extended her hand to him._

_He placed his hand in hers, and felt the immediate warmth of her skin rush into his. His gaze falling to their joined hands, he stood up beside her. They stared at each other for the longest minute, when she begun walking for the door, slowly pulling him along with her._

_Michael followed willingly, flipping the switch as they moved from the living room into the corridor. They just stepped into the room, when he gently pulled Kelly to a stop, bringing her to him._

_She placed one hand against his chest, the other going to his cheek. "Oh Michael," she said, sighing softly, "You're not going to win."_

_He started stepping forward, making her walk backward into the bedroom. "More fool you, Kel...I'm gonna kick your ass."_

_She smiled a small, challenging smile. There were only a few more steps to go, when soon they were at the mattress and the two fell down atop it._

"_Michael!" Kelly laughed, trying to push him off her, and, laughing; Michael moved so that he was straddling her and lightly held onto both her wrists. "Really, Michael?" she asked with a hint of disbelief, twisting her arms to get free from him, but he didn't let go. "Michael!" she begged, laughing, "Come on let me go!"_

"_I dunno, Kel..."_

"_You're cheating, Michael..."_

"_No I'm not..." he mused, shaking his head. The truth was he wasn't holding her wrists all that tightly, and if she really wanted to get free she easily could._

_Her lips parted with a soft exhale, and it was in that moment when his hands began to slip. He slid his hands, the tips of his fingers brushing her skin, down her bare arms. A breath escaping his lips, her hands fell to his chest, and as he moved, craning over her, he felt her hands as they moved to his waistband._

_His heart racing that bit faster, Michael stared into her rich brown eyes for a moment, before lowering his face to hers, about to kiss her, when a breath caught in her throat, and she stared back at him, a hint of fear in her eyes. "Kel...if you don't wanna..."_

"_No, I...I just..." She let out a soft sigh, "I'm sorry."_

"_It's okay," he said with a smile, "We d—"_

_But before the word had fully formed, Kelly thumped him in his side with one of the thick pillows, before laughing loudly._

_Letting out a heavy sigh, Michael tensed his jaw, before quickly slackening it. "Kel..." he said with a hint of warning._

_She laughed, grabbing hold of his collar and bringing him down atop her. "I told you I'd kick your butt," she said, their faces inches apart. She wore the widest smile, and when she pulled him by his collar and planted a kiss on his mouth, she suddenly yelped as he hit her back with the pillow. Their lips still pressed together, she laughed between kisses, saying, "You...jerk..."_

_He kissed her again, before lifting his head and gazing down at her. "And I promised I'd kick yours," he grinned._

_Shaking her head, she light chuckled, "Oh shut up," she said, when he lowered his lips to hers again, kissing her tenderly this time._

His mind raging with guilt, and the memories of that night, Michael broke out of his thoughts for the moment, and moved out of the living room, wandering back along to his and Kelly's bedroom. He saw her still form in the bed, and he felt his stomach knot and burn at knowing she had taken the Darvocet.

It had been a long while since they had been as happy as that first night in the apartment, and he missed it. It wasn't Kelly's fault, and, in a lot of truths, it wasn't his fault either. It didn't, however, stop him from blaming himself.

Moving around to his side of the bed, he pulled his t-shirt out from the waistband of his jeans, but any semblance of energy he might have had to get changed was long gone. Taking off his watch, he sat down on the edge of the bed and set the item on his bedside cabinet with a sigh. Inside every part of him was wishing he could pick up the phone and call his Ma. Only, this was his mess. He already felt like he was failing as a cop, and he had failed Kelly – it was why she took the pills, he knew it was. If she slept, she wouldn't have to deal with him.

He knew the thoughts were irrational, but it was easier for him to blame himself than to try making sense out of everything.


End file.
